


caught in a world of our own

by orphan_account



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, a look at the 4hw's reaction to becky's injury, angst with a vague ending is my brand, featuring cameos from, triple h and stephanie and naomi AND sonya deville
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This was not how the night was supposed to go.All Becky wanted was to have a nice little invasion of RAW, set up the next step of her feud with Ronda Rousey, then have a date with her girls.This? This was not it.





	caught in a world of our own

**Author's Note:**

> I got a prompt for headcanons regarding the other Horsewomen's response to Becky's injury, and it took a while but here it is, in fic form. Of course, me being me it turned into a monstrosity of angst and woe.
> 
> The title is from Urbandub's "Endless, A Silent Whisper."
> 
> The night belongs to us  
> We're caught in a world of our own  
> We cling to the hope it would change for us  
> Is it in vain? Is it too late?

_ Before _

Becky  _ lived _ for these invasion angles. She still remembered how she took the lead in 2017, bursting past the New Day to put the fear of God in the RAW women's division. The sight of Dana Brooke running away from her as she sauntered forward will never get old.

This one would be even better. Getting to put Ronda Rousey in the Dis-Arm-Her? Marching down the ramp to challenge the  _ entire _ RAW women's team? Teaming up with her girlfriend to beat down the girls from the red brand? Standing tall at the end of it all?

A great way to spend her night.

That she'd get to end it with all of her girls only made it better. She and Charlotte and Bayley and Sasha had already made plans to catch up after the show; they had a reservation at a local restaurant before they shipped out to St. Louis for SmackDown Live the next night.

"Ready, champ?" A production hand shook Becky from her reverie. "Almost time."

"Yeah, I'm good," she said. She knew Charlotte and the rest of the Team Blue girls were already in position; she had watched as Alexa screwed Bayley and Sasha out of a good finish to their match, again. As the Riott Squad was brought out, she sighed, then squared her shoulders. 

"Let's go."

*

The crowd was buzzing. Becky could feel energy thrumming through her veins; she bounced a little as she waited for her music to hit. When it did, she walked -- no, she swaggered -- down the ramp. She could see all of the RAW girls inside the ring; she could see Bayley and Sasha outside of it, down for the count. Neither were to be touched tonight; if they were going to plant the seeds for a Four Horsewomen reunion down the road, they had to start somewhere.

She stared at the RAW team as she reached the ring; she felt, rather than heard, the crowd chanting her name. Becky took some time to bask in the adoration of the fans; they were still going wild as she neared the ring, a smirk on her face.

Finally, she raised her arms, already triumphant even before the fight had begun.

"The Man is on RAW," she declared, loud enough for the cameras to catch, even without a microphone. "This is my show now!"

It was a signal. All of a sudden, Charlotte had slid into the ring, quickly followed by Naomi and Asuka and Sonya and then the rest of the SmackDown girls. Alignments didn't matter: all that mattered was kicking ass. Becky rushed in after them; she instinctively went to Charlotte, who was wailing on Tamina, before remembering that they were technically still feuding. 

Without missing a beat, she swerved to Nia Jax, who was being handled by Naomi in the corner. She went in for a punch of her own.

It was the last thing she clearly remembered.

*

_ After _

The next thing she clearly remembered was Charlotte grabbing her arms after she crossed the curtain.

"Baby," Charlotte said, her voice taking on a panicked tone. "Becks, you're bleeding."

"I know," Becky said. Her voice was slurred, but she couldn't hear it amidst the blood rushing through her brain. "I look badass."

"It looks bad," Peyton Royce chimed in. She had been the one to check on Becky, before their champion had stood on the ring steps and taunted Ronda Rousey some more. She had seen the blood pouring out of Becky's nose, and a worried Charlotte had asked to take a look. In the heat of the moment, Peyton thought that Becky was fine: after all, she had the wherewithal to pose on the ring steps, and near the exit as well. 

That meant she was fine, right? Right?

A towel suddenly appeared in Charlotte's hands, thrust in there by a clearly-worried Naomi. "Let's get you cleaned up, Becky," Charlotte said, gently wiping Becky's cheek.

Immediately, the SmackDown women's champion flinched. "That hurts," she whined. "Don't touch my face."

"But Becky --"

"Becky, that was incredible." Suddenly, what seemed like the entire RAW Creative Team was there, including Vince McMahon and Triple H. The old man was grinning at the Irish superstar, a look of pride glimmering in his face. "We're going to have to edit it for the YouTube page, but you were amazing."

"Thank you, Sir," and again her voice was slurred. Vince clapped her on the shoulder before turning to Triple H, presumably to talk about how Team RAW would respond the next night. 

Becky was looking at her shoulder where the old man had touched it. She shook her head a bit, and winced when that caused pain to lance from her eyes to her skull. She reached out to grasp Charlotte's arm. "Charlie."

"I'm here, babe," Charlotte responded immediately. The towel was clutched tight in her hand, specks of blood staining it.  _ Becky's blood _ .

"What did I do?"

"What?"

"Vince said  _ that _ was incredible," Becky said, blood still pouring from a cut on her eye, and her nose. "What was  _ that,  _ exactly?"

Charlotte exchanged a worried look with Naomi, and then with Asuka. "Becky, we gotta get you to medical," she said. "You're still bleeding, and you may have a concussion."

"But we have a date," she said, "Right? That was tonight?"

"We can re-schedule," Charlotte said swiftly. "Come on."

*

_ This was not how the night was supposed to go. _

Becky was at the medical area, getting checked out. She almost certainly had a fractured nose; they needed further tests to see if she also had a concussion. That she appeared to have trouble remembering what had happened was worrisome.

Charlotte bit her lip.

The SmackDown girls were going to leave in a bit. They had a limousine to themselves, which would take them from the arena to the airport, for the short flight to St. Louis for the next day's show. The original plan had been for Charlotte and Becky to briefly ride with them, take selfies that they would post on Twitter as a show of unity, then the two Horsewomen would return to the arena to pick up Bayley and Sasha for their date.

But with what happened… Charlotte didn't know what the plan was, now. 

"Char." 

"Sweetheart."

Finally.

On instinct, Charlotte collapsed into Bayley and Sasha's arms, releasing a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. They had been stuck with Creative; the RAW team needed to figure out how they would retaliate the next day. Charlotte was on the receiving end of increasingly irate texts from both Sasha and Bayley, as they both expressed their frustration over how long the meeting was playing out.

"Any news?" Bayley asked. 

Charlotte only shook her head in response.

"Our girl's tough," Sasha said, although there was an uncertainty to her tone that was so unlike her. "She'll be fine."

"There was so much blood, Sash," Charlotte whispered. "And afterward. She didn't know. I mean, she had trouble remembering what happened. I'm --"  _ Scared. Frightened. Worried. _ "What if she's --"

"Shh," Bayley murmured. "Let's just wait, okay, babe?"

Sasha and Bayley led her to a nearby bench. "Did you see what happened? Who did it?"

A dark look took over Charlotte's face. "Nia."

"Nia?"

"She punched her. For real. Closed fist and everything."

"That bitch -"

"Is that why you guys threw her to the ring post?" Bayley asked, stopping Sasha's rant before it could start.

"And the spear outside," Charlotte said. "But if Becky's really hurt, I swear I'm --"

A clearing of a throat stopped Charlotte's threat. In unison, they glanced over to see Triple H, who was smiling faintly. In unison, they stood up to face their boss.

"Charlotte," the man in charge said. "The SmackDown girls are waiting for you. You all have to leave now."

_ Yeah, that's not gonna happen _ , Charlotte thought grimly. She stubbornly stayed in between Sasha and Bayley, who had their arms wrapped around her waist in support. She shook her head. 

"I'm staying," she declared resolutely. "I'm not leaving Becky."

Hunter grinned again, but this time it was not so faint, nor was it so kind. It looked, vaguely, like a baring of teeth more than a smile.

"You make it sound like I was giving you an option, Charlotte," he said. "I know you're concerned about her, but you have a job to do still. Go. Now. You have a flight to catch."

"But -- "

"We'll update you," Hunter assured her. "I promise, Charlotte." He then turned his attention to Sasha and Bayley, who stared back at him. "The two of you have to go, too. There's a house show tomorrow, and everyone else is on the move."

Bayley and Sasha were as stubborn as Charlotte. None of the three women moved.

Triple H sighed. Somewhere, a clock ticked. Production crates rolled past; people walked by. A phone rang. 

A full minute passed. And then another. 

Still, they refused to move. 

Finally, Hunter sighed again. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you're worried," he began, "But the show must go on."

In unison, all three women bristled at his words. " _ The show must go on? _ " Bayley parroted in disbelief.

"Are you serious, Hunter," Charlotte said. It was not a question. "Becky could be seriously hurt."

"Yes, and it's awful and we're very, very, very concerned. Trust me," the man responded. "But you all have places that you need to go to. Now." When still they refused to budge, Hunter groaned. "Don't make me get Stephanie. Or worse, Vince. Neither of them are as polite as I am."

Charlotte exchanged glances with Bayley, and then Sasha. It was all they needed. 

"Only if we can see her first," she said.

*

_ Oh, this is not good _ .

The thought popped into Bayley's head immediately upon seeing Becky. She felt the hold on her hand tighten, and Sasha let out an honest-to-God whimper.

"That bad, huh?" Becky asked, a wry grin on her face.

The Irish woman was sitting on a bed, a shiner very clearly developing on her left eye. They had cleaned up the blood on her face, but that only made the cuts visible. There was also a lump on the side of her head. The entire left side of her face was beginning to swell.

They all rushed to her; Charlotte immediately stroking Becky's hair, while Sasha and Bayley moved to her side, surreptitiously checking for more injuries.

"Becks," Charlotte breathed out. "How do you feel?"

"Well, I still know all your names, and my name. I know the president's name, too, unfortunately," Becky said. "But I don't remember much of what I did. Everything's a blur."

Sasha smirked. "You ended Ronda Rousey," she said, her voice managing to sound cheerful despite the situation. "They were chanting your name while you hit her with a steel chair."

"I remember the chair," Becky mused. "Don't remember how many times I hit her, though. Is she mad?"

"Word backstage is she's not pleased at the crowd chanting 'One more time'," Bayley answered. 

Becky laughed, but it was a muffled sound. "Ouch," she winced. "Hurts to laugh."

"That's because your nose is likely broken, Miss Lynch."

They turned into the direction of the new voice; one of the company doctors had entered the area. None of them bothered to pull away from Becky. It wasn't as though the sight of them so close to each other was anything new to anyone in the WWE. 

If anything, Sasha pressed closer to Becky, as if knowing that whatever the doctor would say would not be good, and would cut short the time they had with each other. On her other side, Becky felt Bayley inch closer to her as well. She sighed softly. "Well, doc? You've kept me in suspense long enough."

The doctor tilted his head, as if in apology. "We won't know the extent of the injury until we bring you to a hospital, Becky," he said. "But it's looking like a broken nose, and a concussion. You're gonna have to go to an ER. We've already contacted a local hospital, and an ambulance is on its way -- "

"Hell no," Becky said. "No, no, no fucking way, no hospitals, no -"

"Becky -"

"Becks -"

"Baby, calm down, please -"

"No hospital," Becky said, shrugging off Bayley and Sasha, and standing up. She looked imploringly at Charlotte, as if she was an actual queen who had any say on what went on in their company. "We have a date tonight, right?" When Charlotte didn't answer, she pressed on. "Charlie?"

"Becks." It was Bayley, her voice quiet. "Babe, if they say you need to go to a hospital, then you need to go to a hospital. Concussions are dangerous."

They _knew_ concussions were dangerous. They had just spent an entire month nursing Sasha back to full health, after she exhibited concussion-related symptoms that scared all of them. The sight of their lover looking pale and uncertain, lacking her usual bluster and confidence, had unnerved all of them.

But Becky didn't want to go to a hospital. Just having to stay at medical was bad enough; an actual hospital would make this injury  _ real _ , would make it serious, would jeopardize the opportunity that she could feel tugging at her fingertips. She may not remember much from the night, but she could still feel the roar of the crowd behind her, could still hear the chants of her name. She knew she had done something important that night; the details were fuzzy but she was  _ certain _ she had done something right.

And she knew that if she went to a hospital, it would come crashing down. 

Gone in a snap.

Becky looked at Charlotte, then Sasha, then Bayley, and back to Charlotte. "Charlie," she said, her voice taking on a pleading tone, "Please, we have a reservation. That Italian place with the gelato that Sasha likes. Right? Please."

Charlotte bit her lip, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut to stop her tears. She opened them again, then put her hands on Becky's shoulders. "You need to go to the hospital, Becky," she said, her voice firm, ignoring the look of betrayal that Becky gave her. "We're not taking any chances with you."

"We'll go with you," Sasha said. Bayley shot her a swift look, but Sasha just pressed on. "We can go with her to the hospital, right?" At the doctor's nod, Sasha leaned over and kissed Becky on the uninjured side of her head. "Don't worry, baby, we'll be right there."

"The ambulance is here," the doctor said, interrupting them again. "Come on, Miss Lynch."

*

_ This was not how the night was supposed to go _ .

When the night begun, all Becky wanted was to have a nice little invasion of RAW, set up the next step of her feud with Ronda Rousey, then have a date with her girls. All she wanted was to spend some time with Bayley and Sasha, whom she hadn't seen in a week because of their hectic schedules. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, honestly.

_ This _ was not peace and quiet.  _ This  _ was an uncomfortable ambulance ride to a local hospital in Kansas City, while Sasha and Bayley and Charlotte followed on their rental car. Becky was aware that her girlfriends were disobeying direct orders from their bosses by going with her.

She grimaced as pain lanced through her head again. Perhaps she shouldn't be thinking too much. Her brain had been rattled, quite literally. Damn Nia Jax. Damn her for not seeing the punch coming. Damn her for being too slow to dodge it. Damn Nia Jax. Damn her for not just teaming up with Charlotte to beat up on Tamina. Damn Charlotte for --

She stopped thinking for a bit.

The ambulance stopped, too.

Slowly, carefully, they brought her to the emergency room, where she was transferred to a more comfortable bed and hooked up to an IV. Why, she didn't even know. She wasn't sick, just injured. 

_ Injured at the worst possible time _ , the snide voice inside her head piped up.

She closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking again.

_ So much for Survivor Series. So much for Ronda Rousey. So much for the main event.  _

"Shut up," she mumbled.

_ You could have gotten the main event. But now you're injured. What's gonna happen to you, huh?  _

"Shut the fuck up," Becky said, louder this time.

"Uh."

"Becks?"

Slowly, Becky opened her eyes. Sasha and Bayley were staring at her in concern. "Oh. Hi," she muttered.

"You were talking to yourself," Bayley said, unnecessarily. "Is that a concussion symptom, or -"

"I just have… too many thoughts," Becky said. She didn't elaborate, and neither Sasha nor Bayley asked. Instead, they both sat down beside the bed, looking tired and worried. 

"Did the doctor drop by yet?" Sasha asked.

"No."

It didn't escape Becky's notice that Charlotte wasn't there, but she didn't want to ask. She didn't need to.

"Hunter caught us when we were leaving," Bayley explained. "Um. He allowed us to go with you. But… He made Charlotte go to the limousine for the SmackDown girls. Said they were already late for their flight as it is."

"She wanted to be here, Becks," Sasha said, her voice soft.

"Yeah," Becky answered, closing her eyes again. The lights in the ER were giving her a headache. "Yeah, I know."

"She said to call her immediately once we get an update," Bayley added. "Becks -"

"It's fine," she murmured. "Don't worry, Bay. It's fine. I'm fine."

They were silent for a few minutes. Finally, a nurse came in, breaking the tension in the air. 

"We have to take Miss Lynch for x-rays and an MRI," he said, before helping a still quiet Becky into a wheelchair. That she barely put up a fuss set alarm bells ringing in Bayley and Sasha's heads, but before they could voice out their worry, Becky was being wheeled out of the ER.

The ER's doors swung shut behind Becky and the nurse; its thud echoed through the room. 

*

"We should be eating gelato right now," Sasha said, her voice mournful, as she watched Bayley pace up and down the waiting area of the hospital.

They had no reason to wait at the emergency room, and soon after Becky had left a nurse came to shuffle them out, and direct them towards a waiting area. Sasha had plopped down on a chair immediately and checked for messages; Charlotte had already sent about a dozen.

_ I'm sorry. Please tell Becky I'm so sorry. _

_ I'm going to kill Hunter the next time I see him. _

_ Is she okay? Did they give a diagnosis yet? _

_ Is she mad at me? Don't answer that, I know she is. _

Sasha had sighed upon reading them, and shot Bayley a knowing look. "Char's panicking," she had said, showing Bayley the messages. Bayley shook her head in response. 

"She's calm enough to post tweets about 'bleeding blue'," she said.

"Bay."

"I know, Sash, I just…" At that point, Bayley stood up and began pacing. "I just hoped she'd be here, you know? I just hoped she'd have pushed back a little harder. But she got into that car almost without argument."

Bayley looked at Sasha, her face a picture of disappointment. "I don't know, maybe she didn't wanna --"

"Don't say that," Sasha said, her voice sharp, "Don't even think it."

Bayley fell silent. She resumed pacing. 

For a while, Sasha tracked her movements, before leaning back and closing her eyes.  _ This was not how this night was supposed to go _ . They had waited weeks --  _ weeks _ \-- for tonight, and now their reservation was going to waste. All she had wanted was some time with her lovers and now apparently she can't even get that. Sasha could feel tears forming behind her closed eyelids and stubbornly refused to free them.

"We should be eating gelato right now," she said instead.

Bayley stopped her pacing at that, and sat down beside Sasha. "I'm sorry, babe," she said. "I know you've been looking forward to this for a while, and so was I. This just… this sucks." It was the lamest possible way to describe the situation, but there were no other words that she could use.

"I know," Sasha said, laying her head on Bayley's shoulder. "I just want her to be okay." She reached out to clasp Bayley's hand, and squeezed it tight. "She will be okay, right?"

Bayley wanted to say yes, but the truth was after seeing how Sasha had struggled in the past month with her own concussion-like symptoms, she simply wasn't sure how Becky was going to deal with her injuries. Sasha had been withdrawn, depressed, contemplating the end of her career, before getting the all clear to compete again. If Becky's injury was as severe, it would devastate their girl -- especially as it came days before what was supposed to be the biggest fight of her life.

Thankfully for Bayley, she was spared from answering by the arrival of Triple H and Stephanie McMahon, as well as a couple of members of the WWE Creative team. The couple immediately walked to Bayley and Sasha, who stood up warily as they were approached by their bosses.

"Ladies," Stephanie said, offering them a hug that Bayley and Sasha hesitantly returned. "Any word?"

"Nonet yet," Bayley said. "We've been waiting for a while."

"They took her for x-rays and an MRI," Sasha added.

"I see," Stephanie said, looking at her husband. "Well. Might as well get settled in, it looks like we're in for a long night."

"You're gonna be waiting with us?" Bayley asked, a little shocked.

Stephanie smiled -- a genuine one, not one of those that she uses for cameras when she's preening as the inventor of women's wrestling. "Of course we are," she answered. 

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait all that long.

Some 20 minutes after Hunter and Stephanie arrived, a doctor approached them. "You're with Miss Becky Lynch?"

Sasha and Bayley stood up immediately. "Yes. She's our …" Bayley hesitated, just a fraction, but it was enough for Sasha to step in. "Our best friend. What's going on, doc?"

"And we're her employers," Hunter said, stepping forward. "What's her diagnosis?"

The doctor checked his notes for just a second. "Miss Lynch has a fractured nose, but what's concerning is her concussion. It's quite severe. There are gaps in her memory about tonight's events," he said. "She told me that she… got punched? Is that right?"

"Yes," Sasha said through gritted teeth. 

Hunter glanced at her before looking back at the doctor. "What's her timeline for recovery, doc?"

"For the broken nose, a month, at least. The concussion is a little trickier. Certainly more than a week. She's going to have to be checked out again in a couple of days to see if her condition has improved," the doctor said. He closed his notes, then added, a little more delicately: "Miss Lynch … did not take news of her diagnosis well. Something about this weekend?"

"Shit," Bayley said. "Can we see her? Please."

"We're moving her to an observation room right now," was the response. "We'll tell you when we have the room number."

Stephanie was looking at her husband. "So that's the main event out," she said. "Goddamit."

Triple H was already on his phone. "Bayley, Sasha," he said. "You're excused from the house show tomorrow. We need to take care of this clusterfuck first. Can you take care of her?"

"Of course we'll take care of her," Bayley said. "We got this, Hunter." 

Sasha was already approaching the nurses' station, presumably to inquire about Becky's room. Bayley glanced a bit at her girlfriend, then said, quietly: "Is there anyway for Charlotte to come back here, Hunter? I'm sure she'd want to be with Becky, too."

Triple H looked at her sadly for a few moments. "I'm sorry, Bayley. But you know Charlotte has a job to do for tomorrow." He checked his watch. "I think they're already on their flight, anyway. So I don't even know if you can contact her." At the crestfallen look on the woman's face, he again said: "I'm sorry. But with this development we  _ need _ Charlotte on SmackDown more than ever. I'm sure you'll see her on Survivor Series weekend."

"Yeah," Bayley said, her voice even quieter than before. "I guess."

This time, both Triple H and Stephanie gave her sympathetic looks. "We're have to go and figure this out, okay? We'll probably be in St. Louis tomorrow. Thank you, Bayley," Stephanie said. "Sasha, thanks," she added, almost an afterthought, as the other woman approached. 

They watched as their bosses walked away. Bayley felt Sasha clasp her hand, and squeezed back. "Let's go," Sasha said, her voice soft.

*

They knew Becky wasn't asleep. They knew how she looked like when she was in the depth of slumber, and this was not it.

"Becks," Sasha called out. "Baby, we know you're awake."

"'M not," Becky mumbled. "'M asleep."

Bayley smiled at that, even as they moved to sit beside Becky. She took the Irish woman's hand in hers, while Sasha gently brushed Becky's hair off her face. "Hey, beautiful," she murmured. "How're you feeling?"

Becky closed her eyes tight for a little bit, then opened them. Well, she tried: her right eye opened fully, and there Bayley and Sasha could see that it was dull, the usual mischievous glint that lit her orbs completely snuffed out. Her left eye, however, was almost completely shut; that side of her face was swollen to an alarming degree. There were stitches near her eye, too, and Sasha felt hot anger course through her veins at how defeated Becky looked at the moment.

The Irish woman was clearly trying for a grin, but failed miserably. "Not feeling very beautiful right now, Bay," she rasped out. She looked at Sasha. "I know you're already planning Nia's murder, but can you wait until I'm better so I can come with?"

Sasha had to laugh at that. "You know me too well, babe," she said.

This time, Becky managed to lift the corner of her lips in a small grin, but only very briefly. Tears pricked at her eyes, but it hurt to cry, so she blinked them away. "I just lost the main event of Survivor Series, didn't I?" she asked, quietly.

Sasha and Bayley exchanged a look. They had a promise, in their relationship, to always be honest with each other, and they weren't about to break that now. "Yeah," Bayley said. "I'm sorry, love."

"Fuck," Becky breathed out. "Fuck it."

"Becks," Sasha said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Becky said, her tone bitter. "This was going to be my moment. This was going to be it, I -- I don't even care if they booked me to lose, I  _ know _ I was going to steal the show. Now what. Nothing, zilch, nada."

Bayley wanted to say something reassuring, but words failed her. Both she and Sasha knew that words were useless at this point, anyway: there was nothing they can say that could take away the sting of disappointment from Becky.

All they could do, at the moment, was hold her hand as she embraced the dark mood that had descended upon her.

"I'm tired," Becky suddenly said, after a few minutes of silence. "I'm gonna sleep, is that okay?"

"Of course, babe," Sasha said. "Get some rest, we'll be right here."

Neither of them missed the shadow that crossed Becky's face when Sasha said "we." All of them knew they weren't complete; Charlotte's absence loomed over the room like a phantom pain, like an ache in their collective bones that wouldn't go away no matter how they tried to ignore it. 

Becky squeezed Bayley's hand tighter. There were still too many thoughts in her head, and they were all jumbled up. She still couldn't remember exactly what she did tonight; she saw the videos and the pictures, and had the wherewithal to send a couple of tweets -- she remembered that it took her five tries to get the spelling of "paint" correctly. She didn't want to think about tomorrow, about the inevitable meetings that she needed to go to, the discussions that had to be done. She didn't want to think about what was supposed to happen on Sunday, and what would happen instead.

Bayley squeezed Becky's hand back. There was a call that she needed to make, she knew. But it could wait until Becky was asleep. In the meantime, she had to hold on to Becky, had to do something to at least  _ try _ and ease her pain, no matter how small it was in nature. 

Sasha leaned her head on Bayley's shoulder. She, too, was tired -- she almost forgot that they had a match earlier, and it wasn't as though the SmackDown girls eased up on them. But she had to stay strong, she knew, because Becky was hurting, and it was usually Becky who anchored them to earth and held them together, but now she was the one who was hurt and in pain and in desperate need of assurance.

Becky let out a soft sigh. Her hold on Bayley's hand loosened. Her head lolled to the side.

They knew how Becky looked like in the depths of slumber. This was it.

Bayley sighed and untangled her fingers from Becky's. "I'm gonna -" She tilted her head toward the door, and Sasha nodded. 

"Okay," Sasha replied, threading her own fingers through Becky's. Before Bayley left, she tugged on  _ her _ hand. "Bay."

"Yeah?"

Sasha smiled, soft, a little sleepy. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Bayley responded immediately, dropping a kiss to Sasha's lips before exiting the room.

*

Triple H was right: she couldn't get a hold of Charlotte.

Bayley sighed as her call went to voicemail for the third time, and resigned herself to just leaving a message.

"Char… hey," she began, then sighed again. "Uh, Becky's got a fractured nose and a severe concussion. We're still at the hospital, we don't know when she'll be discharged. They need her overnight for observation, at least."

"We'll take her to St. Louis tomorrow. Hunter gave us the day off. Just thought you'd like to know," she added.

"Char, uh," Bayley paused, long enough, significant enough that she  _ knew _ Charlotte would read too much into it, even if that wasn't her intention. "I love you, okay? We love you. We'll see you tomorrow."

She ended the call, and leaned back against the wall outside of Becky's room. 

Bayley knew she was being unfair to Charlotte. She knew that, rationally. The woman had a job to do, and she had been given direct orders by Triple H. And Hunter himself said it: with Becky's injury, Charlotte's role in the next episode of SmackDown probably became even bigger.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't help but feel a little betrayed when Charlotte chose to go with the SmackDown girls, after putting up a token argument with Triple H. She couldn't help but look dismayed when Charlotte told them to go ahead, but please could they keep her updated? 

_ She wouldn't need to be updated if she were here _ , Bayley thought, a little uncharitably. She blew out a breath. It would do no good to be angry with Charlotte right now. It  _ made no sense _ to be angry with Charlotte. She had a right to choose to do her job -- Bayley  _ knew _ that Charlotte had to choose to do her job. 

Because Bayley wasn't stupid. She knew how this was going to play out. There was a bigger than 50% chance that Charlotte would end up facing Rousey that Sunday, while all three of them watched backstage. She knew that Becky was going to be upset; she knew that Charlotte would be, too. 

If only Charlotte were here, so they could smooth things over before they fall apart. 

If only Charlotte were here, so they could talk things through, as they always did, when it seemed that the powers that be were pulling them away from each other.

If only Charlotte were here, so they could figure things out.

But she wasn't. 

Bayley went back to Becky's room, smiling slightly when she saw that Sasha had fallen asleep on the chair beside the bed. She went to join Sasha, squeezing herself into the space; her smile grew larger when Sasha turned and cuddled into her, making herself as small as possible.

"We're gonna be fine," Bayley murmured, even though she doubted Sasha could hear. "Don't worry. We'll be okay."

*

Their flight had been delayed by more than an hour now, and Charlotte was getting antsy.

"Calm down, girl," Naomi said. "She'll be fine. You said Bayley and Sasha are there with her, right?"

"Yeah," Charlotte said, looking down at her phone for probably the fifth time in the past 10 minutes. "Bayley said she'll call me once they have a diagnosis but what if we're on the plane when she does? Then I won't receive it and - " She shuddered a little. "Naomi, if I miss that call, I don't know what I'll do."

"Damn, girl, breathe," Naomi exclaimed. "Look, if you're so worried why don't you call them?"

Charlotte  _ knew _ that was the rational thing to do. But the truth was that she was a little scared of what will happen if she called Bayley or Sasha. She hadn't missed the look of disappointment on their faces when she had slid into the car, even though it was upon Triple H's explicit instructions. She still couldn't forget how betrayed Becky looked when she told her that she needed to go to a hospital, either.

Charlotte felt that she had done something tonight that disappointed her girlfriends, and hurt them. She also knew that if she called Bayley or Sasha, her feelings would be confirmed, and that was honestly the last thing that she wanted at the moment.

She didn't know if she could take it. Just the memory of how… hurt … they looked still clawed at her, nagged at her brain, and tugged at her heart. She knew she made a mistake. She didn't want to make another one.

"Shit," Charlotte said. "My phone's out of battery. Nao, do you have -"

"Here," Sonya said, handing over a power bank. "No offense, queenie, but you're a little off your game today."

"Well sorry, Sonya," Charlotte snapped. "It's a little tough to keep it together when I'm worried about my girlfriend, okay? Especially since I'm not with her like I should be."

"Well, why aren't you?" Sonya asked, refusing to back down from the clearly irate blonde. "Why aren't you with her?" The  _ with them _ went unsaid; Sonya knew Charlotte got the message, loud and clear.

"Hunter said -" Charlotte couldn't even finish her statement, because Sonya scoffed at her. "What?"

"Nothing," the former MMA competitor said. Charlotte glared at her, but Sonya stayed silent -- silent, but defiant. 

Charlotte bit her lip as Sonya's question rattled around in her brain.  _ Why aren't you with her? Why?  _

_ Why aren't you with them?  _

"Fuck it," she said, pulling her phone out from its cord and handing the power bank back to Sonya. "I'm going."

"Excuse me?" Naomi said. "Actually -- excuse you? What're you doing, Charlotte?"

"I'm going to the hospital," Charlotte said, calmly. "We'll have enough time to catch up with you guys tomorrow. Just… can someone take care of my luggage, I already checked it in and --"

"I got it," Sonya smirked. 

Charlotte debated clocking the woman, but settled for a dignified silence instead. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?" she said, before walking away.

Her phone had just enough battery for her to book an Uber, but it died again a few minutes into their trip.  _ Fuck _ , Charlotte thought.  _ I've been so stupid. _

It should have been so easy, she thought, to stand up to Triple H and tell him that she was going with her girls, to be with Becky like she wanted to be, like she  _ needed _ to be. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out  _ why _ she instead chose to go into the car and join the SmackDown women, but she did. 

She knew what it looked like to Bayley and Sasha. She knew it appeared as though she made a choice, and they made theirs. 

Well, she was making a new choice now. She has a right to change her mind.

Charlotte could only hope that she wasn't too late.

*

It was well after visiting hours when Charlotte arrived at the hospital, but she managed to convince the nurses to let her into Becky's room. "I'm her best friend," she said, feeling a little sick as she did so; it always hurts,  _ always _ , when they couldn't tell other people who they truly were to each other.

The nurse had looked unimpressed, but rattled off Becky's room number, anyway. Charlotte muttered her thanks before walking away briskly; somehow she felt the need to hurry, as if there was a deadline she was trying to beat.

As if time was ticking and she needed to beat the buzzer, or otherwise lose.

She couldn't lose.

But when she reached the door, Charlotte found that she didn't know what to do, exactly. Should she knock? No, Becky was probably asleep; she needed her rest. Bayley and Sasha were likely sleeping, too; they had a match that night, they were both tired.

But she didn't want to just barge in, either.

Charlotte let out a weak chuckle. There were no closed doors when they were together. All of them went seamlessly in and out of each other's spaces, with no hesitation and no fear -- only little touches and kisses, easy displays of affection and love.

And now there was a closed door between her and her lovers, and she didn't know how to open it -- or if she even should.

_ Be brave, Charlotte _ .

She twisted the door's handle and pushed it forward, opening it just a fraction. The room was dark; only a small light above the bed offered any sort of illumination. Through it Charlotte could see that Becky was deep in slumber, and Sasha and Bayley were asleep as well, tangled up together in a chair beside the bed.

She couldn't help it; a small smile broke out on her face.

_ Be brave, Charlotte, goddamit _ .

She stepped forward and put her bag on one corner, before approaching Becky's bed. She gasped a little when she saw the bruising around her lover's face, then immediately covered her mouth. 

She pondered what to do next. There was no other space in the room; Sasha and Bayley were squeezed in the lone chair.

She sighed.  _ Oh well _ . 

Charlotte toed off her shoes, then carefully, gingerly, slid into the bed beside Becky. The Irish woman barely moved a muscle. Charlotte smiled a little, then wrapped her arms around Becky's waist. 

Becky sighed a little, but didn't wake.

Charlotte closed her eyes and let sleep settle in her bones. She knew that when she woke up, there was a conversation that they needed to have, but for the meantime, she accepted the little slice of silence and calm.

*

Sasha woke up first.

She untangled herself from Bayley and checked the time -- 6:00 a.m. They needed to consult with the doctor about Becky's treatment and recovery, and then they had to drive to St. Louis because riding an airplane might be too risky for Becky. That was a seven-hour trip, and --

Sasha's thought process skidded to a stop when she looked over at the bed, and saw that Becky wasn't alone.

"Charlotte?" she whispered, wondering if she was seeing things.

*

Charlotte woke up second.

The sound of her name roused her from sleep, and she blearily opened her eyes. She checked on Becky immediately: the Irish woman was still deeply asleep, but her face appeared slightly less swollen now than it did last night when she came in. 

Charlotte turned to look at Sasha. "Hey," she said, sounding a little embarrassed. "Good morning."

"What time did you get here?" Sasha asked.

Charlotte swung her long legs off the bed and slipped into her shoes. "Around 2:00 a.m., I think," she answered. 

They were silent for a few moments. 

"Sasha --"

"Charlotte?"

*

Bayley woke up third.

She began to wake the moment she felt Sasha leave her arms, but didn't fully welcome consciousness until she heard Sasha talking to  _ someone _ \-- someone who wasn't there when they went to sleep the night before.

"Charlotte?" she asked, surprised.

"Hey, Bayley," Charlotte answered after a few moment's pause. "Um. Good morning."

"Hey," she said. "Did you get my voicemail?"

Charlotte shook her head. "My phone died while I was on my way here," she said. 

"Why are you here?" Sasha asked. 

There was no heat in her tone, no judgment, no anger. Yet Charlotte felt hot tears forming in her eyes at the question, and she stubbornly wiped them away. 

"I couldn't… I couldn't not be here," she said quietly. "I told them to go ahead without me."

"Oh," Bayley said.

Silence ensued. Charlotte bit her lip, unsure of what to say next.

"Why are you all so loud?"

*

Becky woke up last.

She had a vague feeling of being let go, of being released from a hold, of a pressure easing up from her bed. She began to hear voices, close to her, and she knew these weren't just her traitorous thoughts making themselves known again.

Her head still ached, and the entire left side of her face throbbed. But she could hear, and hear clearly, that there were three voices in the room with her instead of just two.

"... I couldn't not be here… I told them to go ahead without me."

That was Charlotte, right? It had to be.

Becky opened her eyes -- well, her right eye -- and saw that Charlotte was indeed there. And that Bayley and Sasha were staring at her as though they couldn't quite believe she was real.

"Why are you all so loud?" she blurted out.

It was almost comedic, how fast their heads turned to look at her. Becky struggled to sit up, and immediately Charlotte dashed to her side to help her. 

"Hey," she said to the tall blonde, a slight frown on her face. "You're here."

"Yeah," Charlotte mumbled, looking down. "Becks, I --"

She stopped, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I wasn't here last night," Charlotte finally said. "I… There's no excuse for me not being here. I'm sorry. I should have gone with Bayley and Sasha but -" She looked at the two other women, who were looking straight at her as she spoke. "But, nothing. Like I said, there's no excuse. I'm just sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm here now, and I promise I won't leave again."

Her speech was met with silence. Charlotte felt tears begin to form in her eyes again, and this time she couldn't stop them from falling. 

Becky knew she could choose to be angry with Charlotte. She won't deny it -- she was deeply, deeply hurt that Charlotte hadn't been there the night before, though she had as good a reason as any for her absence. She knew she could throw that in Charlotte's face right now, and the blonde woman would take her anger because Charlotte would feel -- because Charlotte  _ feels _ \-- that she deserved it. 

But they hadn't managed to keep their relationship going strong for  _ years  _ by being spiteful with one another. 

They hadn't managed to stay together through brand splits, through bitter and personal feuds, by choosing to be angry when they could choose to forgive. 

They had not kept the fire burning by lighting it with harsh words and cutting sentiments, but by lighting it with the warmth of their affection for each other.

And so, Becky just sighed a little, then said, softly, gently, "Come here, Charlie."

She opened her arms, and Charlotte fell into her embrace, taking care not to touch the part of Becky's face that was still swollen and bruised. The blonde woman was still spouting her apologies, and Becky murmured: "It's fine, love, I promise."

"It's not," Charlotte gasped out. "It's not okay, I should have been here. I'm so sorry Becky, god I don't know what I was thinking, but I'm sorry and --"

"Shh," Becky said. "It's okay. It's okay, right?" At that, she looked pointedly at Bayley and Sasha, who were still standing at the foot of the bed. 

For an agonizing moment, Charlotte thought both Bayley and Sasha were about to disagree. 

For another agonizing moment, both Bayley and Sasha thought they  _ were _ about to disagree.

But then, Sasha nodded."Yeah," she said. "What's important is that you're here now, Charlotte." She offered a small smile, one that Charlotte looked at as a beacon of hope. When Sasha approached her for a hug, Charlotte lifted her off her feet in sheer relief.

Bayley looked a tad more hesitant, but she too moved to embrace Charlotte. "Hey," she said, still sounding a little guarded. 

"I know you're mad at me," Charlotte immediately whispered to Bayley, low enough that Becky couldn't hear. "I  _ know _ , Bay. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"It's not about me right now, Char," Bayley murmured back. "I love you, okay?"

"I love you," Charlotte responded, promptly burying her head on the side of Bayley's neck, feeling her tears flow further. 

"And we love you, but you need to get me out of here," Becky said, interrupting their moment.

"What now?"

"Get. Me. Out. Of. Here," Becky said, emphasizing each word. "I'm not staying in this hospital for another hour, so…" She looked searchingly at Charlotte, then at Sasha, then at Bayley. "Please?"

"Well, when you put it so nicely," Sasha said. 

"I'm gonna call a doctor," Bayley said, already shrugging into her jacket. "Wait here, okay?"

"Let me fix your stuff," Charlotte said. "We still need to decide if we're riding back there or taking a flight."

Becky smiled as her girlfriends sprung to action. She could hear Sasha and Charlotte discussing what they should do for the day; she closed her eyes.

Her head still hurt. Her memories from the night before remain fuzzy. Her left eye is still almost swollen shut.

Her main event went up in smoke. 

But -- somehow, and against all odds -- they were all together, and that had to count for something. 

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this at 3 a.m. so if there are grammar or spelling errors, please forgive me. Also, before you come for me, I *hate* how I ended it, too, but my brain is too tired right now. 
> 
> For more reactions just find me on Tumblr (rebeccaquinoa).


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